Profile of Evil (24 page)

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Carly and Brody entered the interview room where Earl Haas was waiting at a table, after spending the night in a jail cell. Brody leaned against the wall behind Earl's chair, and then introduced Carly as the officer who would conduct the interview. Carly sat down directly across the table from Earl, placing her folders on the table.

"I hear you like little girls, Earl," Carly said.

"Baby, with a looker like you, I could change my mind," Earl offered as he stared at her suggestively.

Brody kicked the back of Earl's chair to get his attention, and said, "Show a little respect."

Carly glanced at Brody with surprise. They hadn't discussed playing bad cop, good cop, but she was game.

Earl swung around to glare at Brody, the heavy chain attached to his ankles, clanging against the metal table leg.

"As you know, Earl, last night we implemented a search warrant on your house and workplace. At your house, we made some interesting discoveries. You've been a busy and bad boy," said Carly. "We found over a hundred nude photographs of underage girls." Retrieving a thick stack of pages from her file and placing them on the table, she added, "These are transcripts of conversations with you and underage girls you found on the Internet, some of them as young as eleven or twelve-years-old."

"Oh, shit," Earl mumbled as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Believe me when I say we already have our detectives searching for these girls, and they will interview each and every one of them. I, for one, can't wait to hear what they have to say."

Shaking his head, Earl sat back in his chair and stared at his hands in his lap.

"We already had you for traveling to meet a minor for sex and soliciting a minor for sex, charges that will send a registered sex offender like you away for a long, long time. But with this new evidence, that long time may stretch into infinity."

"What do you want from me?"

"The truth."

Carly pulled out a stack of photographs that gained Earl's attention. She then slowly slapped each one down in a horizontal row before him, as if she were setting up for a Solitaire card game. With each photo, she paused to say the victim's name, ending with the last photograph, which was Amanda Jenkins.

Staring down at the photos, Earl stammered, "What the..."

"Shut up until you're asked a question, Haas." Brody growled, delivering another kick to the back of the suspect's chair.

"Contrary to what the sheriff thinks of you, Earl," Carly began. "I think you're a very smart guy. It takes a high degree of intelligence to do what you've been doing for years without suspicion."

"Doesn't take that much smarts to be smarter than the county cops," Earl said as he sneered at her.

Carly nodded, as if in agreement. "Yes, you're certainly smarter than us law enforcement types, who had no idea who you were and what you were doing."

"What are you talking about?" Earl asked pointing at the photos. "Who are these girls?"

"Oh, c'mon, Earl. Don't be shy on my account," Carly said. "I know you're dying to take credit. I mean, you're the man."

Earl shrugged his shoulders. "I've got no clue what you're talking about, Lady. I repeat, who are these girls?"

"Let me introduce you to them again, just to refresh your memory," Carly said, as she tapped the first photo with a long fingernail. "Meet Sydney Jackson. She was thirteen when she disappeared three years ago. Before that, she lived with her parents in Knightstown."

"So?" Earl muttered.

"Keep quiet, Earl, until you're asked a question," snarled Brody, behind him.

Moving to the next photograph, Carly said, "You remember Alysa Benjamin, right? She was fourteen-years-old when she ran away to be with you four years ago."

Saying nothing, Earl visibly gritted his teeth and scowled at her.

Carly described each victim. When she got to Amanda Jenkins, she said, "Earl, you must remember Amanda."

Earl picked up Amanda's photograph to get a closer look. "Okay, this one
does
look familiar. I might have seen her online, but I don't know her personally."

"Sure you do, Earl. A year-and-a-half ago, you transported Amanda to Morel in the Greyhound bus you drive," Carly said. "And once you had her here, you kept her against her will. You raped and tortured her, then shot her point blank in the back of her head. Then you put her, along with Sophia Bradford, in a car you set on fire to hide your crimes."

Earl jumped to his feet and screamed, "That's fucking bullshit. What the hell is going on here?"

Brody pushed off the wall to intervene, but Carly held up her hand to him to signal for him to stop.

In a hard, cold voice, Carly said, "Sit down, and don't raise your voice to me again."

Earl slunk down in his seat, shooting Carly a decidedly nasty grin.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I have one more photo to show you," said Carly, as she pulled it out of her folder. "This is Alison Brown. She's missing and before you leave this room, you're going to tell me where she is."

"Listen," Earl begged. "Alison Brown rode my bus from Indianapolis. I remember her. I also remember that Amanda girl riding on my bus, but I swear to God, I don't know who these other girls are. I swear."

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Alison continued to make her way through the woods, stopping periodically to check the long, jagged cut near her belly button, which continued to bleed despite her efforts to stop the bleeding. Her socks, now torn and covered by twigs and burrs, provided little protection for her feet.

Resting a while, Alison sat down and leaned against the trunk of a huge tree. Though it was only fifty degrees or so, she swiped at her sweaty face, and tugged at the sweatshirt sticking to her midsection. Although she felt as if every muscle in her body was crying out for relief, she refused to stop. She couldn't stop until she found help. Exhaustion was creeping in, along with a sense of weakness. If only she could stem the bleeding.

The forest was a scary place at night, filled with sounds of creaking tree trunks, hooting of owls, the cries of prey caught in the jaws of predators, and calls of coyotes and wild dogs. She shuddered to think what a pack of wild animals might do to her. Alison was a city girl who had never camped or ventured out much after dark. Without a flashlight or a full moon to guide her, there were times when she groped blindly in the dark using her outstretched arms to guide her.

Shoving the terror of an animal attack to the back of her mind wasn't difficult. All she had to do was to think of what the Master would do to her if he caught her. That couldn't happen. She'd get help, and once she could talk to the police, she'd do everything in her power to lead them to the Master and the woman who helped him.

Bracing against the tree, she pulled herself to her feet. It was time to move on. Pressing her hand against her tummy, she hiked for an hour or so before stopping again. Aching and hurting so much she could barely breathe, she leaned against a tree, not trusting she could get up again if she sat down.

Thinking of the last time she saw Jasmine alive, swinging near the ceiling by the wrists as the Master whipped her small body bloody, Alison bit back a sob rattling in her chest. If only she could have done something...

She froze as she heard the sounds of branches snapping and dried leaves crunching. Someone was moving toward her, and there was little time to hide. Diving behind a wide tree, she pulled the black hood of her sweatshirt over her head, curled her body into a ball, and prayed whoever or whatever was approaching would not find her.

Crackling of undergrowth continued until it stopped abruptly, very close to where she was hiding. Holding her breath, she froze, willing herself not to move and give away her location. Something warm and heavy bumped against her, and Alison turned her head to look straight into the eyes of the biggest German Shepherd she'd ever seen. Sitting on his haunches, the dog licked her face and began happily panting as if she were a long-lost friend.

Hesitantly, she touched the dog's soft fur. He didn't bite her, so she stroked his back as he inched closer.

"Who are you, and where do you live?" Alison asked, wishing dogs could talk. "I know you're not Lassie or one of those super-smart rescue dogs, but do you think you could lead me to your house?"

The large dog inched still closer until he was almost on her lap, seemingly delighted that she was now rubbing and scratching his ears. Feeling his neck for a collar, she was pleased to find he was wearing one, complete with metal tags. The dog was in good shape, and obviously had a home, which she prayed was nearby. She didn't know how much longer she could continue walking.

Pulling herself back on her feet, Alison moved in the direction from which the dog had come. He bounded ahead of her as if he thought they were playing a game. Barely keeping up, Alison struggled to keep the dog in her sight.

Soon she saw the beam of an outside light. Moving closer she saw a farmhouse and nearly cried out with joy. Alison was so tired and weak, the short distance to the house seemed miles away to her. Feeling dizzy, faint, and nauseated, Alison could barely put one foot in front of the other. She was nearing a structure that turned out to be a large dog house. In front of it, the German Shepherd stood, wagging his tail. She leaned on it for a second, to gather strength to move forward. Sweating profusely, she began to feel a cold chill throughout her body as her legs weakened so badly she could barely stand. Dropping to her knees, Alison crawled into the dog house, seconds before losing consciousness.

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Moments before, Cameron pulled Carly and Brody out of Earl Haas' interview. They sat in the conference room discussing the case.

"I don't think he's our killer," said Cameron, as he rubbed his head.

"Why not?" Brody asked. "The bastard looks good for it to me."

"I don't know," said Carly. "If he was our killer, why would he admit to knowing Amanda and Alison, but not the others?"

"He's got an alibi for most of the early murders. Right out of prison, he worked on a construction crew for a new classroom building at Purdue. We found witnesses who place him at work every day, including the weekends," Cameron stated. "After he dropped off Amanda and Alison, Haas hooked up with two separate underage girls. We've talked to both of them, and they've agreed to testify against him."

"What did the girls have to say about him?" asked Carly.

"They both said he begged them to send him naked pictures of themselves. He wouldn't let up about it. Earl even sent one of them a new web cam," Cameron began. "Then once they sent the photos, he told them if they didn't have sex with him, he'd post the pictures on the Internet and deliver copies to their parents."

"What a sick freak," Brody exclaimed, shaking his head in disgust.

"Totally agree with you on that one," Cameron said. "One of them was only eleven when she had sex with him in the back of a car on four separate occasions."

"Earl is a registered sex offender. Add these new charges to the ones he earned from the sex predator sting, and this guy's going away for a long time."

"Earl Haas rotting in a jail cell sounds like the best deal I've heard in forever," said Carly.

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Hal and Bettye Locke had run their farm for nearly thirty years, having purchased it just before their wedding. His wife, Bettye, loved their farm probably as much as she loved Hal. Him and Lucky, the German Shepherd they'd rescued from the dog pound three years ago. That's why Hal was wandering around on his property at a God-forsaken four in the morning looking for Lucky, who every morning but this one, practically tore down the screen door to get to his breakfast. If anything happened to that dog ... Well, Hal didn't even want to think about that.

He'd searched the barn, shed, garden, and front yard. Hal was headed toward the doghouse the dog never liked or stayed in, when he noticed a long, furry gray tail, along with a set of human feet sticking out of the dog house. What in the hell was going on?

Reaching the dog house, he pulled out his flashlight and bent down to get a better look. What looked like a young girl was curled into a fetal position, with Lucky's body wrapped around her, like he was trying to keep her warm, and it looked like Lucky had no intention of moving. Tapping the girl's ankle, Hal heard a soft moan, but she didn't stir. Repositioning himself to look from a different angle, he aimed the flashlight directly at the girl and saw there was blood all over her, Lucky, and the floor of the dog house. Hal's heart froze and his knees started to shake as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Bettye, call nine-one-one and tell them to get an ambulance out here as quick as they can! There's a girl out here in Lucky's doghouse, and she's bleeding all over the place!"

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It was Carly's turn to make coffee, and she planned to surprise Brody with some of the crazy-delicious Italian blend coffee Blake had given her for Christmas. Pouring the dark brew into two mugs on a tray, she added the sugar bowl and a tiny pitcher of cream next to two chocolate croissants.